Tamra's Song
Angel of our lower sphere,
homespun hair like summer-
burned field-grass falling
over your face as you bend
to your guitar – do you
sometimes slur the words?
What strangeness takes you,
by moments, beyond yourself
away from earth where we
wait here listening? Is God
listening along with us?
Sing before you go.
Copyright © Taylor Graham | Year Posted 2005
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